


Jokers

by SpicyBiscuit



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Joker (2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arthur still has PBA episodes, Dimension Travel, Hallucinations, Joker takes Arthur in, Mental Instability, Other, Past Suicidal Thoughts, Post Dark knight returns, Post riots, Post-Canon, Pseudobulbar affect, Taking ideas from the original script, Time Hopping, Top henchmen based off of other Jokers or their actors, Trust Issues, Undisclosed mental illnesses
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-01-15 03:10:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21246506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpicyBiscuit/pseuds/SpicyBiscuit
Summary: Arthur never expected to find himself in another dimension 27 years into the future, let alone meet an alternative version of his new identity. Joker.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So far, I'm seeing how this goes. I may end up rewriting this chapter

Arthur isn't sure how he got here. One minute he's running through a crowd of rioters from the police, the next he's lying in an old and dark run-down looking room. The bed is soft, although a broken spring uncomfortably digs into his back, and the pillow feels worn out. Flat. Only the dim glow of a streetlamp filters through the boarded window, indicating that it's night.

The metallic taste of blood lingers in his mouth, and he can feel the drying blood on his face and neck begin to crust up. His face is wet on the left side, making the clown makeup feel slimy against his skin. Eyes now adjusted to the dark, he tries to sit up, but his headache from the crash pounds against his skull. Arthur lays back down wincing, looking to his side as he hears a noise.

A man with long, dirty green hair stares back at him from under his white painted face, and dark circles around his eyes. Red traces some noticeable scars that trail up his cheeks into a smile, seemingly old though still puffy, but his lips remain in a neutral line. The eyes are cold, but they seem curious. Despite his intimidating and insane appearance, Arthur can't detect a threat in this man. Or, at least, not one directed towards him.

"So, you're finally awake" He speaks, never taking his eyes off Arthur who just stares back. "What's your name?"

"Jok-"

"_I'm_ the Joker"

Arthur frowns confused.

Before he can reply, Joker leans forward licking his lips, "You see, I'm not sure what's going on here. I was flicking through the TV, when I come across this old show that was discontinued in the 90's, which is odd. The Murray Franklin show hasn't been on TV since it ended. If that wasn't interesting enough, he introduces this 'Joker' and you come dancing out"

Arthur frown deepens, remembering that night. It only happned a few hours ago maybe, but to him it feels like days. Or maybe it _has_ been days.

"It was interesting, but the most interesting part is you confessing to murder. Or when you killed him on live television? You're really something" Joker pauses to let him reply, but continues with a sigh when he's met with silence. His eyes dart around the room, before making eye contact again. "News reports of riots show up, with people wearing clown masks. I look outside as they were supposedly happening right on this street, but there's nothing. So I was confused, and went to see if I could find the clowns. But there was no one. I eventually found you passed out in an alleyway, so I decided to bring you back to figure it all out"

"I...don't understand" Arthur stares back at him in pain and confusion, unsure what to think. Maybe this guy is just crazy. There's no possible way that what he said is true.

Joker licks his lips again, leaning forwards in the chair with his elbows on his knees, "Let me ask, what year is it?"

"1981...?"

There's a brief silence that fills the room as Joker slowly leans back in the chair, as of the answer intrigued him "It's 2008"

Arthur laughs confused, "What? No that's not...it's 1981"

The other man just continues to watch him blankly, before looking around again trying to think it through, "I don't believe it myself. Maybe there was a...a breif dimension overlap and you shifted into this one. Or you jumped in time. I don't know what happned or if it's possible" He shrugs and gets up, "There's some water on the nightstand to wash your face with. I like you. You should stick around. Though, where else are you gonna go?"

Joker slips out of the room, leaving Arthur alone. Arthur glances around the room frowning, tired, aching and confused. It's not possible that it's 2008. There's no way he's jumped 27 years into the future.

Exhaustion starting to wear on him and his thoughts, Arthur undresses from his lying position and neatly places them on the chair, before slowly propping himself up. He slowly grabs a flannel from the bowl, filled with lukewarm water, and gently wipes away the makeup and blood. The water quickly begins to cloud with a muddy purple, as the different colours and blood mix together, and once Arthur has finished he lies back down again.

It takes him a while to find a comfortable position to sleep in. With a throbbing pain in his head, Arthur shuts his eyes and tries to sleep. Something he hasn't done properly in weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

Arthur doesn't sleep for long. It was dark when he fell asleep, and still dark when he woke up. His headache has faded, allowing him to move around more. He grabs his jacket and fishes a cigarette and a lighter out, before moving over to the window. There's no glass in the frame, allowing a cold chill into the room, brushing against his bare skin.

Lighting up the cigarette, Arthur peers between the boards into a dark alleyway between this building and an old looking apartment block. There's significantly less trash lying around, though still not what you'd call clean. He tries to look at the street beyond the alleyway, but it's empty. Sighing, he presses the cigarette to his lips, smoke filling his lungs, before slowly exhaling.

He can't tell how real this entire situation is. Ever since his medication ran out he's been unable to recognise reality from his imagination, as reality often feels like a dream, and imagination is strong enough to seem real. Like Sophie. He loved her since the day he layed eyes on her.

His eyes fall shut as the memories comes back to him. Her watching his comedy act; their date; her comforting him when his mum was hospitalised. That night when he went to her apartment for support and everything suddenly unravelled.

Arthur already knew how to get into her apartment; he broke in once before when she was at work. He knew that if you jiggled the handle in a certain way then it would loosen the lock, which wasn't secure due to the age of the building. He would never forget the fear in her eyes when she saw him there, or the panic when he slolwy made a gun gesture against his head. His whole world came crashing down in that very moment, and all he could do was get up and walk away without another word, breaking down into a painful fit of laughter once home.

What hurt the most for him, was that the only time he felt normal was when he was with her.

His imagination has always been strong enough to make up things. When he was younger he would often see things that never really happened, or hear things no one else could. It's probably some sort of medical condition that he hasn't outright been diagnosed with, but was given medication for anyway. Though, Arthur can't tell if that's the truth. Maybe he just has an overactive imagination, and that's that.

Maybe all of this isn't real. It doesn't feel like it, but yet it doesn't have a dream-like sensation to it either. If it is just a hallucination, then Arthur is just crashing in some strange house. If it's real? He's stuck in an unfamiliar Gotham city with some strange guy who goes by the name he chose for his new persona. None of this seemed real, or even likely.

Pressing the cigarette back to his lips, he watches a cat wander through the alley, carefully stalking a rat within the bin bags. It reminds him of his old cat, Tabby, though he found out that the cat he had loved didn't exist either. His life is very disappointing at this point.

Joker's words replay in his mind, and Arthur begins to wonder how far away from home he really is. He isn't entirely sure where he ended up after the crash, especially considering the car journey beforehand. The theatre he ran past was familiar, but the rest of the area wasn't. So where in Gotham is he?

Once finished smoking, Arthur puts the cigarette put on the wooden board and flicks it out the window. He puts his trousers and his jacket on, as it doesn't feel like a good idea to confront this man near naked, and slowly creeps out of the room. He follows the wall round to the living room, where Joker is sat on a coach staring something in his hands.

Sensing his guest, Joker turns and stares at him. Arthur notices that he still had most of his face paint on, though it had partially wiped off and smudged on the right side of his face. He hadn't slept much either by the looks of it.

"What's this?" Joker asks, holding up a familiar laminated card. Arthur pauses. He recognises it immediately as a card he gave during an episode, but he doesn't remember putting it in his pocket. "Please forgive my laughter, I have a condition?"

"...I have a neurological condition..." He bites the inside of his lip uncomfortably. His condition hardly affected him anymore, so there's no reason why Joker should've found out about it. "I can't...I sometimes laugh uncontrollably at inappropriate times as a response to my emotions. Like when I get scared, uncomfortable or upset. I can't help it, it just happens"

Joker raises an eyebrow, and Arthur quickly continues. "It doesn't really affect me anymore since I stopped taking my medication. It won't be a problem"

"This condition is real?" The other turns the card in his hand. Arthur nods. "You learn something new everyday" He leans forward with the card outstretched, handing it back to Arthur.

"I..." Arthur starts, hesitating when Joker's eyes meet his, "I don't know my name anymore. I'm not who I thought I was. But I was called Arthur..."

He isn't sure why he decided to tell him. Ever since he found out the truth behind his mother, he hasn't been sure who he is. Everything feels like a lie.

"Arthur..." The man mumbles, then mumbles it again quieter before nodding and getting up to walk over. Arthur notices that Joker is a few inches taller than him, maybe another inch if he stood completely upright. It would probably be intimidating if they were meeting for the first time.

"There's some clothes in the closet you can use" His eyes set on Arthur's bare chest visible from under his jacket, and notices how the skin seems to tightly stretch across the ribs when he breaths in. When he carried Arthur here, he noticed how he was way too light for a man his age and height. His eyes flick up to meet Arthur's again, "I'm not sure how well they'll fit, but it's a good way to blend in while you're out"

"Out?"

"Do you wanna see how Gotham has changed in 27 years?"

"Yes"

"Get dressed then"

Briefly hesitating, Arthur walks back to the room and looks through the closet. It seems as if it were just abandoned. Clothes hang neatly on the rack, with only a few empty hangers within the lot. He moves them around and picks out a few that fit with the clothes he usually wore.

After slipping off his jacket, he tries on a white button up shirt first, but finds that it's far too big. He throws it off and tries on a few more, eventually settling on a light grey button up with a stain on the forearm.

A dark blue cardigan that reminds him of the one he had at home catches his eye, and he immediately tries it on. It's too big for his skeletal frame, but the right length so he keeps it. He notices the threads in the cuffs are tattered and worn, and it's missing a button in the middle, but otherwise very comfortable. A smile crossed his face as he pulls it close around him for a brief moment, before buttoning it up and searching for some pants.

Unfortunately, all of them are slightly too long and the waist is too big, so Arthur decides to wear his own instead, before putting his socks and shoes on. He walks back out and pauses in surprise when he sees Joker waiting for him.

He looks surprisingly different without the face paint, and fairly normal if it wasn't for the facial scars. His outfit is the same, though he decided to take off some of the layers and put on a black coat ontop of it. As Arthur approaches, he notices that Joker's eyes are significantly lighter without the black circles surrounding them. The paint makes his eyes look dark, almost black, but without them, he can see cold, hazel eyes watching him.

"What, do you need an invitation? Let's go" Joker opens the door, and Arthur walks out into the hallway. A strange sense of excitement fills his stomach as they walk down the stairs, and he tries to prepare himself for the modern Gotham he was told of. When they reach the ground floor, Joker walks towards the door where two men are stood, perking up when the two clowns walk over.

"We're heading out. Keep an eye on the place while we're gone"

"Yes, sir" They reply.

Joker glances at Arthur, before they step out the building onto the dim streets of Gotham.


	3. Chapter 3

Street lamps dimly light the path in the darkness of dawn, reflecting off puddles and cars. The tall apartment buildings are all worn down and dirty looking, with alleyways that hide several bins and abandoned furniture. Although they're considerably better looking than the apartment blocks in the 80's, Arthur can tell that not much care or thought has been put into the poorer areas. 27 years into the future, and the politics still don't care. 

They walk for what feels like a while, until the buildings begin to shrink and improve in quality, as they move further into the middle class areas. These houses are better cared for, and some even seem rebuilt. Joker guides him down the path, which eventually leads a set of stairs decending under the path. 

They wander through a mostly empty train station, and down the stairs to a double sided platform. Arthur notices that there's still graffiti coating the walls, and litter blown across the floor. A few people wait around for the trains dressed in suits, or casually if they're with kids. A cold chill blows through the tunnel as the two sit on a bench facing platform 4, waiting for the train. 

Arthur glances around at the other people, taking in the different style of clothing and appearance, then smiles and waves at a little girl when she catches his eye. Her mother notices and moves between him and her daughter, giving him a glare. Arthur frowns and looks back at the tracks sighing, pulling his cardigan closer around him. 

After what feels like hours in the chilly platform, their train finally screeches to a stop. He follows Joker onto the train, and sits down beside him on the seats closest to the door. Glancing around, Arthur notices that the trains are cleaner than they were, but the seats are still just as uncomfortable. There's not that many people inside the carriage. A few business men sat to the far left side; two mothers and their children sat on the opposite side to the left talking; an old man asleep three seats down; and a guy around Arthur's age sat in the corner on his right. 

The doors close with a chime, along with a woman announcing the next stop, and the train jolts to a start. Arthur stares out the window as they move, and sighs fiddling with his sleeve. He's excited, yes, but also nervous. How different will his home city be? Will it be bigger? Better? Will the places he knew still be there, or will they be replaced or non existent? He doesn't notice his leg starting to bounce. An old habit of his. 

No one really notices them throughout the journey, except the lone man in the corner. He knew beforehand that Joker would stand out with his facial scars and faded green hair, but surely this guy was taught that staring is rude. He only stops when Joker gives him a sharp glare which makes the man cower back. 

Arthur glances at his companion, then back out the window. The man always seems to radiate chaotic and dangerous energy, but he seems calm around Arthur. It makes him wonder why he seems to like him so much. Shooting a TV show host dead on live television is cool to some, but is this the sort of guy he is? Joker never gave him a real name. He goes by this alias and decided to call Arthur by his legal name instead, so is it really safe to be around him? 

Of course. If he was going to hurt Arthur, he would've done so already. And he wouldn't have taken him out in public. Joker is very likely a dangerous person, just not dangerous to Arthur. Still, their relationship to eachother is strange and Arthur doesn't get why he's interesting to him. 

A few stops later, the two get off the train and walk through a slightly busy station. It's cleaner here. Obviously they're in a better part of the city, but Arthur had never actually seen somewhere like this that actually looked nice. 

They walk outside, and Arthur gasps as he sees the size of the buildings. He turns to the Joker, eyes wide in amazement as he takes his surroundings in. He catches an amused glint in his eyes before gesturing with his head down the path. Arthur follows Joker, looking at the cars and streets, the people on their way to work. Sky high buildings seemingly made out of glass line the streets, along with a bridge in the far distance that a train passes across. 

27 years into the future, and central Gotham looks straight out of a story. It's a shame that downtown in the poorer areas still look almost identical to the 80's. 

They continue down the path for a while, allowing Arthur to fully explore this part of the city. He's not sure where he is at first. Everything is new and modern, with some businesses or stores that he'd never even heard of. Occasionally, he'll spot a store that stands out or that he recognises, but it doesn't help locate an area. It's only when they come across a familiar tall building that Arthur realises that he's not that far away from home. 

He stops and stares up at the sign coldly, his hatred for Thomas Wayne reigniting deep in his chest. Thinking back to one of the possibilities, he wonders if Thomas Wayne would be alive in this alternate reality if that's the case. Arthur had noticed Bruce in the alleyway when he was running from the police, and couldn't help but feel glad that Thomas Wayne was dead. 

Joker stops and looks at him when he notices him stop, then looks at the building. "That's Wayne enterprises. Wayne owns pretty much everything now" 

"I hate him"

There's a pause. The Joker stares at him for a few seconds, wondering if he knew.

"Who?"

"Thomas Wayne. He's an asshole. He ruined everything! He doesn't care about Gotham, or the poor!"

"He's dead. So is Martha" 

A smirk appears on Arthur's face. "I know" He sighs happily. 

"Bruce Wayne is the one who holds all the cards now" 

"I met him once. He should really smile more"

Joker doesn't reply.

The train journey back feels shorter than it was the first time, and Arthur watches the digital display this time around, It feels weird to him that he didn't recognise most of the stops on the way from seeing them through the window. It's amazing how things can change. 

A few stops away from where they came from, Arthur gets off at station without thinking. He knew right away that he has to see it. He has to see if his home is still there. The train departs, and after turning to see the Joker stood beside him without a complaint, he heads down the stairs to the streets. 

Surprisingly, this area doesn't look too different to how it was when he ran though it yesterday. The stores are mostly the same, and the houses don't look that different. The first thing he notices is the absence trash bags all over the streets, and the cafe he used to love is now a game store. 

They wander through the streets until they reach the stairs between two apartments, and Arthur climbs them as his anxiety and curiosity begin to grow. The Joker quietly follows him, wondering where Arthur is going. This seems to be the only place he fully recognised since they left the base. 

Once he reaches the final step, Arthur darts around the corner towards an apartment block, pausing when he sees a fence across the entrance. He holds onto the bars and gently presses his face onto the metal, staring at the abandoned apartments in front of him. It was only yesterday he was here...

"I lived here" He mumbles with a frown as the other man gets close enough, "I'm surprised it's still standing...it was practically falling apart" 

"There's a lot of buildings in this area that were just abandoned. They can't be bothered to fix it or to build something else so it just remains empty" 

"And then they complain about the homeless" Arthur reaches up to pick at his eyebrow in frustration, then turns back to him. They make eye contact for a few seconds, before Arthur heads back down the street towards the station. 

Joker watches Arthur walk, still trying to work him out. He's confident but sometimes awkward, and occasionally seems more childish than a man his age should be with the way he talks and acts. He definitely has little to no guilt about killing, but doesn't seem to express his emotions that well. The card comes to mind, and he briefly wonders what else Arthur suffers from. That should be something to find out soon; he can't risk surprises if Arthur helps him out. He just needs more time. 

As the sun begins to rise from behind the tall buildings, the two Jokers head back home by train without another word. 


	4. Chapter 4

Things start to change within the next few days, starting with one afternoon in particular. Arthur wakes up to yelling in the other room, between Joker and some unknown man. He quietly walks out of the room and heads towards the noise.

"What did I tell you before you left? What did say!"

"I'm sorry Boss!" The other man trembles in the doorway, and Joker doesn't looked pleased at all at his cowardness "I-It won't happen again!" 

"No, it won't" In the blink of an eye, he whips a gun out from his pocket and shoots the man dead. He falls to the ground bleeding from his head and Joker breaths roughly in anger, barking an order at someone else at the door "Get rid of him" 

Then, Joker turns to Arthur. His blood runs cold at the expression in his eyes, a whirlwind of cold, pure anger that cuts him to the core. He can't move his legs. Frozen in fear, a sharp tickling sensation climbs up his throat, indicating the start of another attack. _No, not now. Don't do this to me. _Unable to hold it back, he explodes into panicked laughter which rips through his throat, and squeezes his lungs. 

Joker starts towards him, but Arthur's legs regain sensation and he stumbles back towards the bedroom, slapping a hand across his mouth in an attempt to muffle the sounds. He continues to laugh, each one ending with a wheeze, gasp or a strangled sound. When he starts coughing from the scratchines in his throat, he continues to laugh which ends up choking him more. Joker keeps approaching him, but Arthur continues to back off until he finds himself in a corner. 

Tears start to cloud his vision, but he doesn't cry. He's never been able to cry -only a few tears ever fall and that's it. It's not out of fear though. No, he's embarrassed. He thought this had stopped when he became Joker, but nothing seems to change. And now he's embarassing himself in front of the only person who saw worth in him and willingly wants him around. Joker took him in; he's the only person Arthur has now. What would he do if he gets rid of him? 

He slides down the wall and presses his knees to his chest laughing, ashamed of himself but also in pain. His lungs and throat ache, but there's no sign of it stopping. It lasts a couple of minutes in reality, but to Arthur it feels like forever. Joker stops and sits down about arms reach front of him, then reaches over to touch him. He brings his arm back when Arthur flinches away with a loud wheezy chuckle. 

"Are you scared of me?" Joker eventually asks once Arthur's laughs are reduced to small chuckles. 

"No-" He replies slightly too quickly. 

The clown sighs and carefully shuffles closer to him, satisfied when Arthur doesn't flinch away this time. "Arthur, I'd never hurt you. You're valuable. Unlike that...clown out there. I gave him an important job, but he messed it up, and we can't have that around, can we? So wipe your face...and smile" 

Arthur rubs his eyes and finally looks at Joker, taken aback by the concern in his eyes. He briefly rubs his throat, before asking "Why do you care about me? What makes me important enough for you to bring me back here? You don't seem like someone who makes friends" 

"There's just something about you that..." Joker pauses, a dark look momentarily crossing his face as he looks towards the window "We're not so different"

Arthur watches him with a frown. He wonders what that means, since it could mean so many different things. Silence fills the room for a few seconds, before he looks at Arthur again, "I want you to help me out on something I've been planning. I can't tell you what it is yet, but I'll explain it all soon" 

He wants to ask what it is -it feels like it's illegal at least- but all he does is nod "Okay" 

Joker leaves the next day, leaving Arthur alone in the apartment for a few days. 

Day one is fine. He looks through the apartment, finding old board games, clothes, pictures and expired medication in the bathroom. Most of it feels like it had been abandoned without the people coming back for their belongings. In the bedroom drawers he finds a picture of a couple and their dog. The woman reminds him of Sophie, with her dark curly hair and soft smile, creating an ache in his heart. He wonders what she's doing now, where she is, and if she even remembers him. Laying down slowly in the bed, Arthur continues to stare at the woman in the photo with a frown, before placing it back in the drawer.

The next day is okay. Arthur finds various different ways to try and entertain himself, but finds himself bored within the first few hours. He ends up ripping the boards off the window so he can get onto the fire escape. It's cold outside, but the air feels nicer than the stuffy room. 

The fire escape allows him to see the street clearer, so he watches the people pass by the alleyway opening. Lighting up another cigarette, Arthur leans against the cold metal railing and takes in the atmosphere. The streets are busier and noisier than they were when he explored Gotham a few days ago, which lets him notice more of how much things have changed. He considers going down and exploring, but that doesn't seem like a good idea at the moment. 

After a while, he notices a cat wandering around below him as the sun begins to set. He goes back inside to find something to feed it with, and finds a can of tuna in the cupboard. He carefully heads down the stairs to not scare it, and tries to force the ladder down without it making too much noise. Unfortunately, it gets stuck and he has to use more force. It falls harder than he wanted it to, the noise echoing through the alleyway, but the cat doesn't run.

Once he reaches the bottom, he crouches down and opens the can, placing it down. The cat sniffs the food before eating, and Arthur smiles gently watching. It's black fur is long and fluffy with white patches along it's paws and face, and bright green eyes. He's surprised when the cat allows him to stroke it, but also by the sudden unsettling feeling he gets as soon as his hand makes contact. Arthur chooses to ignore it. 

Night approaches fast, and Arthur hesitantly decides to go back inside. As he heads back up the stairs, he notices a strange light in the sky. A yellowish, circular glow surrounding a bat shape looms in the sky ominously. A shiver goes up Arthur's spine as he stares up at it confused yet intrigued. After a few minutes, he manages to tear his eyes away and steps back into the bedroom. He'll have to ask about that later. 

Four days after Joker left, Arthur's thoughts start to run and he begins to fall down a dark hole. Being stuck in the room four days alone starts to get to him, and anxiety starts to taint his thoughts. What if he's not coming back? What if he's lying and is planning to get rid of him? 

He walks to the bed and tightly wraps a blanket around himself, trying to mimic the straight jacket he wore in Arkham. It sounds strange, but it comforted him when he was locked up there. Almost like a hug. He sits curls up in the corner shutting his eyes, then hits his head hard against the wall, trying to rationalise his own thoughts as a familiar sensation of numbness slowly washes over him. _He's coming __back__. __Everything_ _will__ be okay. _

Eventually, a knock at the front door brings him out of his dissociative state. He notices that it's significantly darker than it was as he heads down the hallway, and wonders how long he was out for. Holding onto the blanket one hand, he opens the door slowly to see a man on the other side.

"You're Arthur right? I was told to check up on you, can I come in?" The man offers him a wide grin, and walks inside when Arthur steps aside. "I'm John, it's great to finally meet you in person. ...Are you cold?" 

"No, I..." He shuts the door, and follows John to the living room. "Do you want a drink...?"

"No no, that's fine. How about a game of cards?" 

"Cards...?" 

"Yeah!" John opens a small box under the coffee table and pulls out a pack of cards, "You've been here for days by yourself. I figure you'd enjoy the company?" 

Arthur frowns and slowly sits down on the chair opposite him. He still feels like his body is lagging as it tries to wake up from it's previous state, "Okay..." 

John grins and starts to shuffle the cards, humming a tune under his breath, and Arthur gets a good look at him. He's severely pale, with grey bags under his eyes, long boney fingers, and he had noticed that John wore odd socks and mismatched shoes. He isn't the sort of person he expected to see in a place like this, let alone someone so high up on Joker's ladder. He seems too friendly to be associated with a potential criminal, but yet there's something unnerving about him. 

"I saw you the other day when he killed that guy. Whew, I wouldn't want to make him angry. He'd have my head" He chuckles and hands him his deck, "You should be careful. I wouldn't say he has a temper, but he won't stand for any...misbehaviour or failure" 

An uneasy feeling begins to grow inside him, and Joker's words begin to come back to him. How much of it was actually the truth? 

"Your laugh is very interesting. I also have a bit of a nervous laugh myself!" There's a proud smile on his face, though Arthur isn't sure why. "I'll let you start" 

The two begin to play, but Arthur's still trying to understand the situation "..so how do you know Joker?" 

"He was admitted to Arkham a year ago after he terrorised Gotham and brought Batman down. It was amazing! He robbed a bank, infiltrated a parade so he could try and kill the mayor, blew up a hospital, corrupted Harvey Dent, and almost had a ship full of civilians or criminals blown up! Batman went away for a year after that, but Joker was locked away. Well, I was in there for...mm...a long time before that. He doesn't make friends but I'd say we were close. He broke me and a few others out and I've been helping him ever since!" He chuckles happily at the memory, placing a card down on the pile. 

"...Who's Batman?" 

"Who's- what rock have you been living under? Batman! The crime fighting vigilante? Dresses in black with a huge cape? Don't tell me you haven't heard of him, everyone knows Batman!" 

"Sorry, I don't..." His thoughts go back to the bat symbol he saw in the sky the other night, "Is that what the bat light is?" 

"Gee, you really don't know him. I'm surprised. Yes, the bat symbol is how they call him. He fights crime in this city in a way that's not entirely legal, but he's connected to the Commissioner so _apparently _it's ok. But if I did the same, I'd be labelled as a dangerous criminal and be locked away!" 

Pulling the blanket around him more, Arthur nods in agreement and stares at his cards. Old memories of Arkham come back to him, but they're nothing he worries about. He can't actually remember a lot of what happened back then; it's usually just memories of him banging his head against something, staring at the obnoxiously white walls, or the social worker attempting to talk to him. Nothing really haunts him from that part of his life. In a way, he found it more comforting in a mental hospital than it was being at home. But for John, it seems like Arkham only holds bad memories apart from bonding with a criminal clown. He could see it in his eyes when he mentioned it. A wild, yet scared.

"Can I ask where Joker is now or when he'll be back? It's been a while"

"He's sorting out stuff for the next big event. It's gonna be a blast!" He laughs, "Probably won't be back for a few more days, but I wouldn't worry. He does this a lot. I'm sure he'll be happy to see you when he gets back" 

The look on Arthur's face must have given away his doubt, as John smiles and continues, "Haven't you heard? Joker told us that we're not allowed to touch you, and only the few people he 'trusts' are allowed to talk to you. I think it's his way of keeping you safe but who knows. He just wants you close by his side, but the question is why. What does someone like him want with you? Why is he shielding you from everyone else except him? It's a bit weird" 

"I've killed people. He says I can help him" 

John laughs in a low chuckle, "We've all killed people, Arthur. You're not special" 

The two play until the sun begins to set, with John winning nearly every single game. John stretches his arms above his head and yawns getting up "It's late, I should get going" 

"Thanks for...this" 

"My pleasure! I'll be downstairs if you need me. See you around, Arthur!" He shuts the door behind him, leaving Arthur alone with his thoughts in the tiny apartment once again. A lot of what John told him makes him wonder what's really going on here, and what Joker's true intentions with him are. He's not sure he can trust his motives anymore, which is a shame. Joker is just about the only person who likes him, but how can Arthur know whether that's even true or not? If only he hadn't left his gun at the Murray show. 

Arthur searches the kitchen for a good knife, before heading back into the bedroom. He hides it under the pillow, and turns on the TV knowing he won't be able to sleep. 

"-that he will help improve Gotham's police force, to help support the city incase of other criminals like the ones who terrorised us before. Wayne expressed his concerns over The Joker's escape from Arkham a year ago, and the possibility of copycats following in his, or other criminal's footsteps" 

As he reaches over to press the power button, he hesitates seeing Bruce as they play a recording of his speech. But he doesn't hear it. He's too busy staring at the screen speechless. This can't be the same boy he saw at the gates a few weeks ago. That's not the boy he thought was his little brother. That's not Bruce Wayne. It can't be.

Finally, after the story changes over to coverage of an office fire, Arthur manages to press the button. He stares at his reflection in the screen for a while, before crawling into bed and pressing his face into the pillow. _Why is everything __changing__ so fast..._

He doesn't hear the front door open, but his heart almost stops when he sees Joker open the bedroom door. Shooting up into a sitting position, he grips the knife still hidden under the pillow and stares at the clown. 

  
"Arthur"


	5. Chapter 5

Joker walks into the apartment and puts his bags on the couch, before walking to the bedroom to find Arthur. He should probably feel bad about leaving him alone for so long, but he seems like he's someone who's used to being by himself. Pushing the door open, he sees the man laying in bed, with one arm under the pillow. As soon as he sees Joker, he shoots up into a sitting position eyes wide and frozen.

"Arthur" Joker steps towards him, and notices that he seems scared. By why. He reassured him that he was no threat the other day, so what happened? "Arthur"

His other Joker doesn't reply. He just watches him carefully.

Sitting on the foot of the bed, Joker reaches out to touch his shoulder, and feels Arthur flinch hard. "I'm not going to hurt you. I already told you that didn't I?" Still no reply. His bluey-green eyes dance with fear, like cornered prey when meeting it's killer. Arthur sits there like a deer in headlights, and Joker really can't understand why. It frustrates and concerns him. His eyes move down, and notices that Arthur isn't breathing. That's weird. It's like a reverse panic attack.

Then, his eyes follow his arm to the hand that's still under the pillow holding something, "What's under the pillow, Arthur?"

Arthur takes a slow breath but doesn't reply. Joker repeats himself, trying his best to sound calm, but there's still no reply other than him breaking eye contact and moving his hand out. Frustration gets the best of him, and Joker gets up and throws the pillow aside to see a large kitchen knife hidden there. He grabs it and turns to Artur, who immediately cowers off the other side if the bed and backs away.

"What is this?" Joker asks in a low growl, slowly walking around the bed towards him. He's trying his best to stay calm and rational, but this? This is really pissing him off. "Why are you hiding a knife? Do you really think I want to hurt you? After **everything **I've done?"

"No" Arthur's voice trembles. He's backing towards the window where the boards have been taken off.

"Don't you trust me? This won't work if we don't trust eachother!" Arthur opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out. He throws a hand over his mouth trembling slightly. _What happened to you when __I__ was gone? _

"I've told you, I want your help. I like you, and I want you to help me. Guys like us need to stick together" Joker stops a few steps away from him taking a breath, and throws the knife back onto the bed, "We're not so different. We can help each other, but the only way to do that is trust. So I'll ask you," He holds his hand out, "Can you trust me?"

Slowly moving his hand away from his mouth, Arthur stares at the hand trying to consider it, before slowly stepping towards him and taking it. Then, Joker pulls him to a hug, to which he tenses up at first, but quickly relaxes into the embrace. It's like he's never been hugged in his life. He's surprised about easily his arms wrap around Arthur, emphasising again just how skinny he is. Arms slowly mimic the gesture, and the two clowns hold eachother for a while as Arthur calms down.

This behaviour doesn't make sense. He was fine when Joker left, but he seemed scared when he came through the door. Whether it's just Arthur having trust issues or not, Joker finds himself wondering if someone else is involved. The only person that should've come into contact with him is John, and he trusts him enough not to mess something like this up. But, he also knows that John often doesn't think before talking, so he could've easily let something slip without meaning to. For now though, he has to work on building trust between them again.

He gently runs his hand through Arthur's hair to try and help him relax, listening to his steadying breathing. After a few minutes, he decides that he's calm enough, "I brought some stuff back, come on"

They walk into the front room, and Joker leaves momentarily to wash the paint off his face. He would've kept it on if it wasn't days old and beginning to make his skin feel weird. The paint acts like a mask for his identity, but sometimes he can't stand his own reflection.

Walking back, he sits down beside Arthur and pulls a small paper bag out of another bag, and hands it to him. Arthur slowly takes it and looks inside, a small smile creeping up his face when he sees the paints, which quickly halters when he sees the gun inside.

"You need a gun for this mission. Though, I figure you prefer guns since it's the weapon you used? I like knives, but guns can be exciting too"

"Thank you..." He looks up at him and smiles. Joker notices that he almost looks as if he's just woken up, but there's a slightly different feel to it. Like he managed to shut himself off for a few hours without sleeping.

"Can...I ask, how did you get those scars?" Arthur asks him slowly, causing him to hesitate. Every time he explained it, he'd give a story that was connected to the person he told. Part of him wants to tell Arthur the truth, but he can't entirely remember the event. His memories are hazy, usually with distorted voices and muffled screams. Even when he remembers what happened, it always plays out differently each time. Nothing really made sense in his mind.

"I'm not certain...it could've happened in different ways" Joker answers truthfully, "But what about you? All I know is that you killed four people"

Arthur looks at the carpet for a few seconds, before sighing and looking back at him. He tells Joker about taking care of his mother, and being a party clown. He tells him about the gun, being fired and being attacked by the wall street guys before killing them. He tells him about Sophie, Thomas Wayne, and Murray insulting him. He tells him about finding out he's adopted, killing his mum, the truth about Sophie, and killing Rendall. And finally, he tells him about the subway and the riots after the Murray show.

Joker frowns. That's a horrible turn of events in only a few months, but it makes sense why he's this way.

"They got what they deserved" Arthur mumbles to himself, playing with the button on his cardigan.

"Yes...yes they did" He replies, now fully understanding his hatred towards society and Thomas Wayne. There are many different ways that can cause a person to snap, whether it's the death of your wife and unborn child, severe trauma, or just being pushed to the edge by anyone and everyone. Nearly everyone here has snapped for one reason or another, but it's usually just caused by one specific event. Not several.

Though, Joker is satisfied by his answer about Arthur's mental state. It doesn't sound like he knows what's wrong with him, but it's not drastically different from his henchmen. Most of them come from Arkham, so most of them are suffering from some form of mental illness. His delusions or hallucinations aren't anything new either. Thomas is a paranoid schizophrenic, but his symptoms are worse than Arthur's (or what Arthur told him). Especially during his psychotic breaks. Nothing he can't handle.

"You don't have to worry about them anymore, Arthur. Life is different on this side of the tracks. Batman is the only one you should look out for- you know who-"

"Yeah...John told me about him. It's weird"

"I don't want to kill him, so don't try"

"I won't"

They fall into silence again, but it's comfortable this time. Joker feels himself begin to drift off, although he tries to fight it. He only sleeps a few times a month when his body finally forces him to shut down. After a few minutes of trying to stay awake, Joker finally passes out.

Arthur glances over at him, watching for a while to see if he's actually fallen asleep, before carefully moving closer. He's always being curious about the scars. They're bumpy on his face, like they were messily sewn together. It seems unlikely that it was done in a hospital, seeming more like a home fix. From the scars, it seems like the wound was cut jaggedly, not a clean cut through the cheeks, which only makes him more curious. He slowly reaches out to touch them, careful not to wake him, but jerks his hand away when Joker's face twitches at the touch. His eyes move from his cheeks, and then he notices the light freckles scattered across his pale skin. Without the scars and paint, he would look like a normal person.

What could've happned to create such a violent and dangerous man? Arthur doesn't fully know what he's capable of -he only knows things from what John told him and the chaos radiating from him- but it seems like he's powerful. Could it be that all this started from the scars, or are the scars a result of him snapping? It doesn't seem like Joker himself knows.

Collecting his journal and pen from his room, Arthur sits back down beside Joker and begins to draw him to his neck. It's messy, but fairly decent. He then begins to write above the drawing. "Kind but sometimes scary. Intentons arnt clear, but mite be my frend" As much as he didn't like his social worker, her advice to write thoughts down sometimes help. Arthur smiles to himself as he looks over the page, then finally adds "2 Jokers together on a misson. Look out Gotham"


	6. Chapter 6

The big day fills Arthur with excitement and anxiety. He's still not been told what they're actually doing, (Arthur is sure there isn't even an overall plan) but he can tell that it's going to be great. John stops by beforehand to sort some last moment things out, along with two other men. He recognises one of them from the time when Joker showed him around, where he had stood by the door. His name is Mark, a pale and tired looking man who's easy to anger, but also likes to crack a few jokes. The other is a young man, Cal, who always seems five seconds away from laughing or crying, but a nice man overall.

Joker tries to explain what they're meant to do, trying to ignore John's consistent pacing of the living room. Arthur notices Joker staring at him annoyed, but surprisingly doesn't voice it. He just tries to sort out Cal taking over Thomas' role as he's refusing to let anyone come into his room. 'One of those moments' John had called it. Whatever that means.

Eventually, Mark ends up snapping at him, "Will you stop it? It's really distracting, just listen to what he's saying!"

John walks behind Arthur and leans on the chair frowning, "You don't have to yell at me!"

Arthur glances at Joker expecting a response, but he just sighs and gives them a look. "Are you done?" They look down and mumble an apology, "Get ready and meet us downstairs in an hour. Try not to mess this up" It's something he's probably used to; he's been with these two longer than he has been with Arthur. It's just weird seeing him so oddly...patient with them.

The three leave, and Joker gets up cracking his neck, "You should get ready too. I want you to stay by me when we get here. There should be a group of about...uh...thirteen there. Let me take the lead once they're sorted out. Don't interrupt, and don't do anything I don't ask you to do. Alright?"

Arthur nods, and heads to the bedroom to get dressed. He walks over to the closet, and pulls out his red and turquoise outfit with a smile. A jolt of excitement shoots through him as he runs his hand over the material, remembering the good memories that came from the day he became Joker. The day he became free. There's still a few specks of blood on the collar of his jacket, but it's still perfect.

Humming a tune, Arthur begins to undress and pull his suit back on for what feels like the first time in months. He smooths the shirt out in the mirror, before buttoning up the waistcoat grinning. The jacket feels slightly bigger than it was before, but Arthur isn't bothered. He pulls the paper bag out of the bedside drawer, stuffs the gun in his pocket and walks over to the mirror. He brushes back his green hair, then searches through the drawers for a brush, before applying the white base coat across his face.

As he gets halfway through the white, he feels something warm brush up against his leg. He leans down and sees the cat from the other day, purring as she nuzzles against him. "Hello, Carousel" He mumbles smiling as he reaches down to scratch her head, "Today's the big day! I hope it goes well, it seems important to him, and I don't want to disappoint! It's been a while since I could let Arthur go again, even if it's just for a day. I was actually beginning to feel comfortable with him again"

She meows again as a reply and licks his hand, causing him to laugh "You think so? Well, I'm glad you still love me" and he picks her up to put her on his lap. Carousel curls up purring as he strokes her with one hand, and starts with the blue triangles with the other. He gently hums a tune again, smiling at his reflection as his Joker make up begins to develop.

Becoming Carnival used to be a nice moment of his day, as he could see himself becoming someone else. Someone who was actually happy and spread that onto other people, unlike himself. Becoming Joker is a similar experience. Only, he's not a clown anymore.

Soon, Joker walks in as he starts applying the smile to ask if he's ready. "I just need to finish the last part and I'm done. Oh! Meet Carousel! She's the cat I found the other day, isn't she cute?"

He just stares at Arthur's lap for a few seconds before nodding, "Yes, she is. Finish up and meet us downstairs. We're leaving early"

"Okay" Is the reply, before he paints the outline of his smile in a soft red. Once he's done, he picks Carousel up and cradles her in his arms as he walks to the bed, "I have to go now, but you can stay here until I get back" She meows softly curling up, and Arthur pets her again, "Good kitty"

The five clowns are already downstairs when Arthur gets there, so they leave immediately afterwards in a small van. He gets to sit up front with Joker, staring out the window as they drive past building after building. The buildings gradually become less frequent as they head towards the outskirts of Gotham, and Arthur starts to see parts of Gotham that he's never seen before. His curiosity outweighs the deafening silence of the van, allowing him to enjoy the scenery. They eventually reach a rundown looking warehouse by the river.

"Here we go" Joker mumbles, turning off the ignition and jumping out. Arthur follows him, and he let's the four other clowns out of the back. John chuckles and bounces on his feet, before patting Arthur's shoulder. Mark helps Cal out and looks at Joker for the next instructions. Joker looks at them, then heads towards the building as he checks his gun.

They enter the warehouse quietly, keeping on guard for anyone who should be inside. Joker walks ahead confidently, Arthur at his side, but his posture changes as the unwelcome silence fills the air. Arthur looks around uneasily, gun held firmly in his hands as he waits. There should've been people here, so why is it empty?

"Joker-"

"Stay close to me. You three," Joker gestures in a direction, before leading Arthur further in, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He doesn't say anything else, but clicks his tongue a few times in disappointment when he realises that no one turned up. Arthur, however, begins to feel uneasy, despite the calmness his partner expresses to the situation. Something just doesn't feel right. "Didn't you say they were supposed to be here...?"

He doesn't reply, walking ahead and narrowing his eyes as he slowly turns to his right. Hearing movement behind them, Arthur spins around and see a tall man in a black bat costume towering over him. Before he can react, a fist collides with his jaw, sending him stumbling back. All of a sudden, he feels small again compared to the man. Something in Arthur's brain clicks, and his body begins to tremble as another set of laughs begin to jolt through his chest. He backs away as his trembling laughs echoe through the building. 

Batman pauses momentarily as Arthur laughs, surprised by the sound. When Joker laughs, it's an insane joyfulness, almost intending to mock him. This guy...he sounds scared and in pain. However, he quickly shakes the thought off and punches him again, this time the blow knocks him to the floor. His ears begin to ring, along with his vision blurring as he watches Joker laugh and jump on Batman, in what looks like an attempt to wrestle him to the ground. He slowly presses his head against the floor, allowing himself to slowly black out.

Arthur slowly opens his eyes wincing, laying uncomfortably on a bench in an unfamiliar room. His eyes focus as he glances around, the ringing in his ears beginning to clear as he gains consciousness. At first, he notices the bars of the cell he's locked in, then the sound of people talking outside the cell and behind him. The cold of the room brushes against his skin, but as Arthur goes to pull his jacket around him, he realises that its not there.

A sinking feeling fills his chest as he realises that he was caught. The 'mission' was a failure, and he was _caught_. Will Joker be mad? Will he come back for him, or has he screwed his relationship up? Sitting up slowly, Arthur winces and pulls his arms around himself. _Of course he'll come back, don't be __stupid__. He'll find a way._

Two police officers standing outside notice him wake up. "Get Gordan" One mumbles to the other, now standing alert as he watches Arthur. He frowns slightly and rubs his swollen cheek, wincing at the steady bruising caused by the punch. Dry blood crumbles inside his nose, and although he can taste blood in his mouth there's nothing when he wipes his face. They cleaned the paint off while he was unconscious.

The officer almost runs back in with an older looking man, who walks over to the cell. Arthur reads the tag on his jacket. 'Commisioner Gordan'. The commissioner seems uncertain at first, before unlocking the cell and walking over.

"You're awake..." He starts, "good...please hold your hands out"

Complying as he's still half dazed, Arthur watches as he gets handcuffed, and lead out of the cell towards another room with a window. Gordan presses his ID card against the scanner, and leads him inside to the table. They sit opposite eachother, and Arthur glances towards the window which now looks like a mirror. He never saw the point in two way mirrors -they're so obvious.

It's silent for a minute or so with the two staring at eachother, before Gordan asks his first question, "What's your name?"

"Joker" Arthur replies without hesitation. It feels good to use that name again.

"That's his nam-"

"I'm Joker, and so is he. There's two Jokers in a deck of cards, Commisioner, did you know that?" He smiles wide, chuckling slightly, "Similar, but not the same. He's my friend"

Gordan sighs and throws a folder down on the desk, opening it to the right page and handing him a picture, "We took your prints, and there was no match. But then we tried other DNA testing and found a match from your medical records. You're Arthur Fleck...which...should be impossible"

He slowly breaks eye contact to look down at the photo, and pauses when he sees himself staring back. But, it's not him. Not entirely. He has the gaunt face and the cleft scar, but the left side of his face looks off, with his jaw slightly angled unnaturally. His brown hair is messy and dirty, sitting on his shoulders. But it's the eyes that are off. They're dull and lifeless, like something inside him had died. It's the look of a man who had lost all hope.

"Arthur...he died 27 years ago..."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A late merry Christmas to everyone!
> 
> TW: Mentions of suicide around the first half

_Joker glares out the window, arms crossed as he runs his tongue along the scars _ _inside_ _ his mouth _ _frustrated_ _, the fresh bruises on his body dully _ _aching_ _ in the cold breeze. He hadn't noticed _ _at_ _ the time _ _that_ _ Arthur wasn't with them when they escaped. He had been so preoccupied _ _with_ _ fighting Batman that he hadn't noticed his partner _ _passing_ _ out, or being swept away by a police officer. _

_"You left him?" __He finally asks the men __behind_ _him__, "you didn't mention that he was missing when we were driving back?" _

_"I'm sorry...we were doing what you told us to do when they showed up. Arthur was with you and we...we barely escaped-" _ _Cal starts, but John cuts him off _ _nudging_ _ him. _

_"We thought he was in the _ _front_ _ with you. You probably thought he was with us. We only noticed when we got out the van that Arthur wasn't there" _

_Joker growls under his breath and turns them _ _scowling_ _, "_ _We'll get him back. I know where he'll be" _   
_____

"W-wait a seco-"

"February 1982, he was admitted to Arkham after what his boss described as a 'psychotic breakdown', involving an incident in the train station. He willingly admitted himself and spent 3 months there. Afterwards, he was assigned to doctor Phillips, then doctor Kane, but the social services were cut a few months later so his treatment stopped-"

"Stop"

"Months later, he was on the Murray Franklin show, where he attempted to take his own life with a gun, but survived the injury. He was sent back to Arkham for being considered a danger to himself and others, where he died 2 months later during a seizure. The doctors were unable to resuscitate him"

Gordan glances back up at Arthur, who glares down at the photo, gripping it so hard in his trembling hands that his fingers start to go white. He had suffered, but he had managed to get revenge for what they all did to him. But this Arthur didn't. Killing himself on the show was always the plan, but hearing that this version of himself went through with it made his blood boil. He didn't deserve this. _He didn't deserve any of it! _

"He didnt deserve it...he didn't..." Arthur looks up at him

"If Arthur Fleck is dead, who are you?"

"...People are cruel Gordan. All he ever wanted was to make people happy and laugh, but people don't like what's different. If you don't fit into their mold, you're cast out. He was abandoned by everyone and treated like dirt everyday, but unlike me, he got no revenge. I once saw a homeless man dying on the sidewalk, and no one stopped to help him. That's what this Arthur experienced too" He smiles slightly, but not happily.

"You didn't answer-"

"I _was_ Arthur Fleck. Not your Arthur, like you said, he's dead. I'm the one who got justice"

"That's impossible. Your DNA may match his, you may share the same medical condition, and you may look near identical, but doctors watched him die. He's buried. You can't be Mr. Fleck"

Arthur let's out one of his fake, high pitch laughs as a reply, staring Gordan in the eyes coldly.

A few silent moments later, Gordan leaves, and Arthur waits a few seconds before slamming his head against the table. He glares at the floor, pressing his head against the table, and begins to laugh. A tear falls down his face as he laughs, the involuntary noise often getting caught in his throat. He almost feels nauseous from the news, knowing that it could've been him if he never killed those men, or his mum.

It seems strange; one single event can change the course of someone's life. All it took was one bad day to take him down this road. If he wasn't given the gun, he wouldn't have been fired, and he wouldn't have killed those men. If that didn't happen, he could've died, or, like what he has just learnt, gone down the same old Arthur Fleck path to his eventual death. He'd been suicidal his whole life; it was bound to happen at some point.

Besides, a few days before he went on the show he tried to drown himself in the bath, and the night he got the call he half heartedly attempted again for the first time since the day he was admitted to Arkham. If you could call it that.

A sudden realisation pops into his head the more he thinks about it. Surely, there's a recording of Arthur on the show? There's definitely a recording of himself killing Murray, so maybe, just maybe, he can see for himself what happened...

He's not sure how much time passes when he hears the door open again, but the footsteps sound heavier than Gordan's. The chair scrapes against the floor, before silence falls through the room again.

"Where is the Joker hiding?" This guys voice is deeper and raspy, as if he's trying to hide his actual voice.

Arthur slowly sits up to look at him, and is taken aback by a familiar glint in the man's eyes that dissapears as quick as it appears. Batman recognises him. But not from the fight earlier, no, he seems to recognise _Arthur_. But how? Who could Batman be under that costume that would know a guy like him? Only a handful of people would remember him.

"You tried to kill us, why should I tell you?"

"More people will die if you don't tell me where he is!" The man growls, and Arthur hesitantly has to break eye contact.

"He's my friend, I'm not go-"

"The Joker doesn't make friends. You really think he'd come back for you?"

"Don't...say that" Arthur clenches his jaw to try and calm himself. How dare he say that?

"You're expendable. He doesn't care about you"

"Yes he does"

"You're nothing to him"

Arthur doesn't reply, his eyes locked onto the wall beside Batman, anywhere but the man black. Not only is his accusation making him angry, it's bringing up insecurities that he had just managed to bury. Because what if he's right?

His hands clench, nails digging into his palm as he tries to hold it back, when the door swings open and Gordan directs Batman back out the room whispering to him. He doesn't hear most of what he was saying, but he's sure he picked up on the words "mentally ill". Like that meant anything. Maybe Batman should just be nicer.

After the vigilante leaves, Gordan walks back and hesitantly takes Arthur's arm, "Please get up, and don't resist"

But Arthur doesn't get up. His breath remains shallow. Gordan sighs, "Arthur..."

He slowly gets up and follows him back to his cell, fidgiting with the handcuffs against his writsts uncomfortably. As he passes an officer walking past from another room connected to the holding room, he suddenly feels like he recognises her. She stares back as he passes, seemingly recognising him, and Arthur looks down at her name badge. Dumond.

"Sophie?"

But the girl frowns and continues waking when Gordan gestures for her to leave.

"Sophie wait-" He calls after her.

"She's not Sophie. It's best if you leave her alone, Arthur." The commissioner says as he leads him back onto the cell, locking the door behind him. He unlocks the hand cuffs through the bars, steps back to look at him, then walks away when someone calls him over.

Arthur sighs and sits back on the bench, tightly holding himself as he watches another officer walk up to the bars with something red in his hand. They stare at each other as the man moves around to him, then hands him back his red jacket before walking off. As he opens the folded jacket, a joker playing card falls out and Arthur laughs to himself.

It won't be long.


	8. Chapter 8

Time passes slowly, as Arthur sits on the bench, curling his hand in the fabric of his jacket as he stares off at the wall. Caught in a daze, he doesn't acknowledge Gordan coming back up to the cell in an attempt to talk to him. He tries for a while, but eventually gives up when he realises that Arthur isn't snapping out of it any time soon.

The lack of windows or clocks in the room . He can't tell what time it is or how long he's been here. The only indication is that there's less officers in the room than there was, as most of them had gone home.

Not too long after Arthur jolts back to reality, he notices the man from earlier stood at the door. He walks over, moving close to the bars and speaking in a hushed voice as to not be caught. His eyes catch the name tag on his shirt, which reads 'Jesse'. "Arthur"

Arthur slowly approaches, watching as the man glances around before shifting onto one foot. He pulls something out of his boot, then with a quick motion grabs Arthur's hand and presses a warm metallic object in his palm. "Wait for the signal. I'll come and get you, only use it if you have to once you're out. Okay?"

"Signal?" Arthur frowns confused, holding onto the object as Jesse's hand slowly let's go of his, "what signal?"

There's no reply as he walks away, leaving Arthur confused. He finally looks down at the object in his hand, and frowns uncertain as he stares at the strip of metal. His thumb lightly traces the sides until he finds a small button, which releases a blade when pushed. A knife? Why would an officer give him a knife?

He pushes it back into the handle and puts it in his pocket, before sitting down again. Something that Joker had told him before the mission comes back to him. _Don't worry, __I__ have men on the inside._ This Jesse guy doesn't seem like the sort of person that would work for the Joker. His greying hair and tired expression leaves little thought on what he could do.

He waits. And he waits.

Then it finally happens.

Gun shots echo through the building as officers scream, people running around in panic. The officers guarding Arthur's cell run to go and help their peers, but one is shot down in the doorway. He laughs, watching 4 men in clown masks run in to free him.

"Lets go" The man with the purple coded clown mask says, shoving him out of the cell and towards the door. He grips the knife in his pocket with one hand running beside them. Suddenly, a man beside him is shot down but they don't stop. They continue.

Nearly out of the door, Arthur is grabbed by the arm but in one swift movement he stabs them through the eye. They run towards a van and jump in.

"Where's Cal?" John asks as he throws his mask off and turns the key in the ignition.

"Dead. Move, quickly" The other guy barks at him, pulling off his own, ask to reveal the cop. John hesitates briefly as he stares at him in the mirror, before racing off down the road.

"Now we're out of there, I can introduce myself" Jesse holds his hand out, "I'm Mark. Nice to finally meet you"

Arthur stares at his hand momentarily, noticing what seems like chemical burns dancing up his fingers, and the indent of what was once a wedding ring. He takes his hand, "Arthur..."

"Joker has talked about you quite a bit. So has the commissioner. I heard the other officers talk about how you've 'come back from the dead', somehow. That's very interesting. It seemed like a surprise to you as well- I was actually watching the interrogation...you're quite the catch"

"I just passed out in an alleyway and woke up at the hideout. I have no idea what happened..."

Mark let's out an intrigued 'hm', leaning back in the seat with his head resting on his hand, "I see why he likes you, Arthur. I'm sure Gordan will be upset that he lost you though, he seemed very interested in your case. It's not everyday that you arrest someone working for a terrorist who turns out to be someone who should be dead"

He hands Mark the knife back, and bites the inside of his lip when he catches sight of the burns again. The rest of the journey is in silence, allowing him to reflect on what he's now learnt and think about the new person beside him.

It feels like an hour before they pull up outside the abandoned apartment block. As Arthur hops out the car, he's pulled into a tight embrace by John. "I'm so glad you're back..."

"Hey. Off, now" Mark pulls him away and shoves him towards the door. John frowns, glancing back at them before walking inside.

"Don't worry about him, he's always been like this. If he decides you're his friend you really have no say in it unless you really piss him off or hurt his feelings. Which of course is exactly what most people here will do. So far Joker is the only one here he considers a friend, apart from some new recruits, but I think he's already attached himself to you" Mark holds the door open for him and walks back up the stairs towards the apartment. "You shouldn't expect much from someone who lived in Arkham Asylum for so long anyway, they're all insane one way or another"

"Have you been to Arkham?"

"No...I mostly just enjoy the thrill of it all, I'm not like the Arkham clowns at all. How about you?"

Arthur frowns, "A few times...it felt safer in there than it is out here" 

Mark snorts as a response and pushes the door open, "I don't see anything wrong with you, did you admit yourself"

"I-" Arthur trails off, mind drifting off to the faint memories pressing at his mind, but unable to penetrate through. Only the feelings remained. His hand moves to rub a faint burn scar across arm through the fabric of his jacket, as it almost begins to burn again. He doesn't even remember how he got it.

Mark stares but doesn't press any further. They head upstairs, and walk inside the apartment.

Joker turns and walks over to them, "Arthur, it's good to have you back. We have a rat among us, that's why we were ambushed. I will _not_ allow this to happen again"

Joker is actually pleased to have him back, which settles his nerves for good. He's wanted here. His disappearance mattered to them. Then, the calmness that settled inside him is hit by a sudden feeling of dispair, "I died"

"What?"

"Arthur Fleck died 27 years ago in Arkham. I'm dead in your world" His voice wavers, "He shot himself on the show instead of Murray but survived for a few months. I killed myself on live television"

The expression on Joker's face is unreadable as he stares at Arthur deep in thought, "Died?"

"Yes. A seizure. A group of doctors witnessed it. Joker, I...I need to find a recording if that night. I need to know what happened to him on the show" He tries to ask nicely, but the tone of his voice almost sounds like begging. The clown continues to stare at him with his cold, expressionless eyes before turining his attention to John.

"Do you think you'd be able to find that for us? They might not have left the recording of a suicide on tape, but I'm sure someone has it somewhere. 1982, Murray Franklin Show, Doctor Sally is on before him"

John nods eagerly, "I can try, I'll ask Cam!" He darts towards the door, stumbling slightly as he almost trips over, then runs out.

"Good to have you back..." Joker placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezes gently, the ghost of a smile present on his face.

_

Days pass, and Arthur continues to run the events through his mind. It feels like he's missing something, but he can't decide whether it's to do with his death or his encounter with Batman. Why does he recognise him? And why does Arthur have a strong feeling that he's already met the man behind the mask?

Sighing, he brushes cigarette ash off his book and scribbles down another name that could potentially be an answer. White male, brown eyes, fit. Arthur doesn't remember many people in his life like that, but this is 30 years later. Whoever it is has aged. _Perhaps__ they were __just__ a __child_ _when__ we met... _

Without warning, the bedroom door slams open and John comes bounding in grinning with another man. Amongst the men with green hair, Arthur never would've expected a man with firey red hair to be stood there. The man is very pale, with light freckles scattered across his face.

He studies Arthur for a few seconds then looks at John "This is the guy on the tape?"

"Yes! This is Arthur. Arthur, this is Cameron. He found the tape for you"

"It took a while but I know a guy who could help. Simple really" Cameron shrugs and hands the VHS tape over, before turning back to John, "Anything else?"

He hesitates briefly, looking between them, then nods, "Thank you"

As he walks away, Arthur turns the tape in his hands "Thanks John...I'd...like to watch this alone"

John offers a smile, then walks out leaving him alone. Arthur moves towards the tv, turns it on, and slides the tape into the player and presses play.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Attempted suicide 
> 
> Italics will be used for the tape, and normal writing for real time

_"You might want to stick around for our next guest" _

_"Oh? Does he have _ _sexual_ _ problems too?"_

_"Oh, he _ _looks_ _ like he's got a lot of problems" Murray comments, earning laughs from the _ _audience_ _, then turns to the left "_ _Let's_ _ see _ _that_ _ clip one last time"_

_The screen switches to Arthur on the stage of Pogo's, pressing his face into the crook of his arm as he laughs uncontrollably. "I ha-hehehe-ated school...as a kid" He swallows, clearing his throat before continuing, "but my mother _ _would_ _ always say, 'You should enjoy it. One day you'll have to work for a living!'. No _ _I_ _ won't ma, I'm gonna be a _ _comedian_ _!" Arthur grins before falling into another fit of giggles. _

Arthur frowns as he hears the audience laugh at _him_, not at the joke. Unsurprising, but dissapointing. They applaud anyway once the clip finishes, and Murray 'welcomes' him on.

_"Please welcome out next guest, Arthur Fleck!" _

_The curtains pull aside, revealing a sickly looking Arthur Fleck. His skin is pale, emphasising the _ _bags_ _ under his eyes which are worse _ _than_ _ they usually are. The suit seems to hang off him more than _ _usual_ _, and his hair, although there seems to be an _ _attempt_ _ to slick it back, sticks out oddly in places. _

_He grins and waves as he walks out, but trips on the curtain and stumbles forwards causing the _ _audience_ _ to laugh again. Smiling awkwardly, he walks over to Murray but trips up the step as he goes to shake his hand. _ _The audience laughs harder at him, some unsure if it's intentional and some finding his clumsiness genuinely funny. _

Arthur bites his lips seeing himself walk over to the other two on stage, trembling not only in nervousness and excitement, but from the fit of laughter threatening to burst.

_The applause dies down, and Arthur looks at the audience beaming. _ _He sits in the chair awkwardly, crossing and _ _uncrossing_ _ his legs _ _several_ _ times before _ _settling_ _ with them uncrossed. _

_"Good evening, Arthur"_

_"Hi Murray-haha" He slaps __hand_ _over__ his mouth trying to swallow down the laughter, "Thanks for hav-haha-having me. __It's been__ a lifelong dream of mine" _

_Murray stares__ at Arthur, __watching__ his __shoulders__ shake with laughter as he desperately tries to hold it back in __horror__, then at the audience with his eyebrows raised as if __it's a__ joke. A few people laugh, __along_ _with a__ few __confused__ mumbles. _

_"Are you alright there?" _

_"_ _I'm_ _ fi-HAHA" Arthur explodes into a fit of laughter, his face quickly going red in _ _humiliation_ _. He _ _tries_ _ to muffle himself _ _with his_ _ hand but it still _ _echoes_ _ through the studio. It's followed by a loud, ugly choking sound, then a _ _retching_ _ sound _ _through_ _ the laughs. This is one _ _of_ _ the bad episodes; the _ _one_ _ where it feels like he just swallowed glass while drowning. The most painful and embarassing type. _

_This time nervous chuckling comes from the mostly dead __silent_ _audience__, as they and Murray stare at the __guest__, who's __face just__ becomes redder and redder as he wishes the ground would swallow him whole. _

_"_ _I'm_ _ sor-" He tries but is cut of again, "I ha-Haha-have-" _

_Arthur pulls _ _the medical_ _ card out if his pocket and hands it to Murray who, _ _previously_ _ thinking this was some part of his act, reads it over and frowns _ _almost_ _ sympathetically. "This _ _condition_ _ actually _ _exists_ _?" _

_Arthur nods, _ _choking_ _ again, then gasps and laughs a bit _ _longer_ _ before his episode begins to subside. "I can't control it" _

_"Hm..." Murray hands the card back, and moves on quickly, "So you're a stand up comedian? Would you like to tell us a joke?"_

_His eyes seem to brighten as the _ _audience_ _ reply with encouragement. "Yeah? Ok!" _

_He pulls the journal out of his pocket, __ignoring__ the comment he gets, and flicks __through__ the pages. Crude __drawings__, random thoughts, ramblings, the same word scribbled over the entire page. Then, he falls on a __familiar_ _sentence__. 'I just __hope__ my death makes more cents than my life' _

_"Don't worry, we've got all night" _

_Arthur glances at him, then turns the page and smiles to himself as he finds one. "Ok, ok. Knock knock!"_

_"And you had to look that up?" _

_"I wanna get it right"_

_"Knock knock"_

_"Who's there?"_

_"Its the police, ma'am. Your sons been hit by a drunk driver, he's dead!" He chuckles and looks up _ _expecting_ _ a laugh. All he gets is a few boos, awkward chuckles and a '_ _womp_ _ womp'. Sally immediately turns to him upset and scolds him for the joke, and Murray also tells him it's inappropriate. _

_"I'm- I'm _ _sorry_ _" Arthur _ _frowns_ _ and flicks _ _through_ _ the pages "Um...Do you want to hear what _ _the_ _ homeless man said to me the other day?"_

_"Sure, ok" _

_"I would, but _ _I_ _ couldn't understand him. He made no cents!" _

_The man grins proudly, but his joke _ _only_ _ earned a few laughs. The smile slowly fades as he looks at Murray discouraged, then back down at the journal. _ _Murray_ _ gives the _ _audience_ _ a look that just says "check out this clown" _

_"I'm sorry, _ _it's just_ _ been a rough few _ _weeks_ _, Murray" Arthur says, reaching up to pick at his _ _right_ _ eyebrow which is significantly thinner than his left from his nervous habit. "My mother died a few days ago...and _ _I_ _ learnt I'm adopted. I don't know who _ _I_ _ am anymore" _

_"Your mother is dead?"_

_"Yes" He replies, though he sounds _ _unbothered_ _ by it. He looks back down at the page and pauses at _ _another_ _ set of sentences towards the bottom. The _ _first_ _ two are crossed out from his changing thought process. _

<strike> _I cold hav killed somone_ </strike>   
  
<strike> _I shold hav killed myself_ </strike>

_I shold kill myself_

_"How about __another__ Joke?" Arthur finally offers, __breaking__ the __awkward_ _silence__ he doesn't seem aware of. _

Arthur's heart drops as he watches himself move his hand underneath his jacket towards his waist band, saying the two words that would've been his last.

_"Knock knock"_

_"Who's there?"_

_Arthur just smiles then in one swift motion, he pulls the gun out, presses it underneath his chin, and pulls the trigger. His head flies back as his blood stains the window behind him, the audience _ _screaming_ _ in terror as he twitches. Murray rushes to his side _ _trying_ _ to see if he's still _ _responsive_ _._

He watches in horror as he sees himself gasping, choking on his own blood as it rushes down his neck staining his clothes. He's still alive. He's still conscious. His last moments would've been spent in pain, surrounded by people who only wanted to use him for laughs. The people who made fun of him, made fun if his dreams, made fun of his condition.

It's a bad punchline.

The video quickly cuts off with a "Please stand by screen", leaving him to stare at his own reflection. Anger quickly becomes drowned out by a crushing wave of nausea, and he runs towards the window, throwing up onto the fire escape. He's not sure if it's watching himself almost die that's making him feel sick, or how he was treated in what could've been his last few moments. Murray still made fun of him after he found out about Arthur's condition. The audience laughed at his clumsiness even after they could see it was embarassing.

He throws up again, reaching up to tangle his fist in his hair and laughs. It's pained, yet oddly freeing. As if Arthur had full control over it for once in his life. A sound from behind catches his attention, and he sees Joker and John in the doorway looking concerned. Arthur just laughs harder, clutching the window frame with his hand and then deliberately whacks his head against the wood. "Fuck Murray. Fuck them all. How dare they do that to him? Do that to _me?_"

There is no reply. But Arthur doesn't need one.

He shuts his eyes and smiles as he thinks back to when he put a bullet in Murray's brain, and chuckles in satisfaction.

He really did get what he fucking deserved.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur visits himself at the graveyard, but it doesn't end well

Arthur spent more time alone for the next few days. The video footage had upset him, bringing up some bad memories, but the other Arthur wouldn't leave his mind. The way he looked on the tape, what he said. It all seemed strange. He looked severely unwell, like he hadn't been taking care of himself for a while. He seemed upset yet unfazed by his mothers death, and Arthur couldn't tell what his actual feelings towards Penny was. He seemed upset she lied for his entire life, but was he still grieving the loss?

Eventually, he makes a decision. He needs closure.

Arthur grabs a jacket from the closet, which looks suspiciously like a cops jacket without the badge or markings, and pulls the hood up as he climbs out the window onto the fire escape. He silently climbs down, slipping away into the morning rush of the streets. The positive thing about this Gotham, is that it's strikingly similar to the one he knew so he knows his way around. Remembering the route he and Joker took a few weeks back, Arthur heads towards the train station and jumps on the train heading towards the Arkham district. The journey doesn't take long, so by the time he gets off the train it is a few hours off midday where the amount of people doubles from before. He retraces the path he used to take, walking by a florist shop and snatching a bouquet of lilies from outside as he passes.

The funny thing about Gotham, was the area in which one of the Gotham cemeteries were placed and how they were layed out. It was close to Arkham, and the placement of graves indicated wealth or importance. Rich, important people tend to be buried within the central area, while the poor are buried towards the edges. Arkham would bury their patients in the cheapest areas on the outskirts, especially if they were a poor, mentally insane soul left to rot inside the walls with no family to deal with their funeral.

It takes around fifteen to get to the cemetery, but Arthur pauses at the gate trying to figure out where he would be buried. If he follows the fence around, he should come across the Asylum graves, which is where he should be. He walks round the graves, until they become smaller and less spaced out, less taken care of. After searching down the lines of graves, he comes across a familiar gravestone, worn away with old age and dirt.

_Pe ny Fl k_

_19 2 - 1 82_

_Be _ _ved_ _her _

Beloved Mother? This other Arthur still cared about her, even after finding out the truth? Or did she die before he found out? He didn't kill her in this dimension, that's for sure.

"Hello mother. Not looking so great are we?" Arthur smiles sarcastically at the gravestone, moving closer and crouching down as if she could hear him "Wanna know a secret? I killed you in my world. You deserved it for what you did to me- to us. You hurt us, ruined our life. You let him hurt us when we were just a little boy, and for what? Did you think it was funny to have a son that couldn't stop laughing? Is that why you called me Happy? I will _never_ forgive what you did"

There is no reply, but why would there be? It's a gravestone. "Bye Penny" Arthur walks away to continue the search for his own grave.

It takes a while, but he eventually finds his own grave towards the far end of the field. The gravestone seems to be in better condition than Penny's, surprisingly, and just reads his name, date of birth and death. It's smaller than the other spaces, not having enough room for a coffin. Cremation is common for Arkham patients. Arthur crouches down. "Hi there...I'm Arthur Fleck. I'm sorry...sorry for everything you went through. Life was so hard before we went on the show, but where I got revenge you never did. The subway guys, Randall, Murray...mum...I killed them all. I'm sorry you never got the chance to do the same"

A robin flies down and perches itself on the gravestone next to the grave, chirping at him and tilting its head. Arthur smiles sadly at it, "You don't have to suffer anymore...and I will carry on your name for you and keep your memory alive. I will not let you be forgotten, I promise. Gotham will know who you are"

A noise from behind catches his attention, causing him to spin around to confront them. No one is there except for a woman standing a few rows back staring at him. Soft brown skin, curly, greying hair sitting around her shoulders pulled back with a bandana. It couldn't be...

Arthur quickly turns to place the flowers in the metal vase that was stuck in the soil, before turning back towards her. But she is gone.

Slowly, he makes his way over to where she was standing and looks at the grave she was at. _Sydney Dumond. _His heart flutters seeing the last name, immediately deciding that he really did see Sophie, despite her disappearance. Despite knowing their relationship was fake all along, he still held something in his heart for her. Would she remember him after all these years though?

"Mr Fleck?"

His heart stops. The footsteps get closer, and the make voice calls out again, "Arthur Fleck?"

He runs.

The mud underneath his feet slides as he runs, flying out the graveyard and across the road, almost getting hit by a car. The air fills with shouts of his name and "GCPD", along with his flat-footed steps down the path. Arthur runs towards the subway, glancing over his shoulder to see two police officers chasing after him. He runs across the road again, and down the stairs of the subway, jumpimg over the barrier and heading to the nearest platform.

His heart races in his chest as he runs onto the platform and looks for a train, as the cries of the officers echoe through the corridor behind him. A train finally pulls in, and Arthur runs onto it. He moves down through the carriages shaking, and looks back to check if he was followed. An uncanny memory of the two detectives chasing him down before his show comes to mind, but this one ends with the train doors closing, and Arthur heading home without commotion.

_____

Trudging up the stairs of the abandoned aprtment block, Arthur begins to experience a sinking feelimg in his chest. He had run away without tellimg anyone where he was going. Would Joker be upset? Angry? Would he force him to leave? This is the only good thing he has, he can't loose it now. 

As he turns the corner to walk up the final flight of stairs, a man walks straight into him. He offers no apology as he stares up at Arthur shaking slightly, eyes wide and frightened, yet also intrigued. Black hair falls across his forehead as he continues to stare at Arthur silently, before he looks at the floor mumbling something and heads towards the room behind him. Arthur looks back at him as the door shuts, and the sound of several locks can just be heard behind the door. Strange. Then again, all of Joker's henchman are in their own way. 

He heads up the final flight and hesitantly knocks. There's shuffling, several hushed voices, before John opens the door with a gun raised. Arthur has no time to react before John's face quickly breaks out into a grin apon seeing him, and lowers it just as fast as it was pulled. "Boss! He's back!" 

"Leave us" Joker says, getting to his feet and staring at Arthur from his spot, his cold hazel eyes peircing through him. They almost seem black from this distance. The people in the room immediately leave, and when the door clicks shut, Joker walks towards Arthur, grabbing his jacket and shoving him hard against the door. Arthur's entire body goes cold as heart stops.


End file.
